Give It Form
by Skydom
Summary: Hi. I'm ten years old, and today I start my trainer career. Finally, my parents will be at least, a little proud of me. Yet, inside, I believe that training is just plain wr- / Oneshot!


Waking up in the morning wasn't one of my fortes. In short, I wasn't an early bird… at all.

"Get your ass out of bed," said an equally-sleepy and playful-sounding voice. It belonged to my sister, a girl of twenty-one. She is also a (rare!) non-trainer. Never touched a Pokéball and, probably, never will. Unlike my parents, she's against training; an abolitionist. She believes that forcing Pokémon to fight against each other, against their will, is morally wrong. She thinks that trainers are slave-holders and that the Pokémon are the slaves. Many people don't like her ideology.

But, I–

"You heard your hippie-sister!" cried out a motherly, yet tough, voice from downstairs. She was sort of joking around, but, to be honest, she does think that Natalie is a hippie. A lot of people do (like my Father), but she doesn't mind being so mentally different from others. I respect her for that.

Personally, I am with–

"C'mon get out of bed, you lazy bum!" my mom screamed, again, "Girl, don't make me come up there! I will personally–"

"I'm up!" I jumped from my bed and made a loud, dramatic thud on the floor, signaling to my mom that she didn't need to hit me or nothing. However, I did land unceremoniously sprawled on the ground. My sister laughed out loud and I told her to shut up.

After we both ran through our morning routines (brushing our teeth, fixing our hair, going to the bathroom… teehee), we all sat down to eat breakfast. Dad eats earlier than the three of us because he works very earl y in the morning. He's a Gym Leader (surprised?) and has to drive all the way from Pallet to Viridian City to get the gym ready and stuff.

I asked him why we don't just move there, but he said he liked coming back to the quietness of Pallet after a day's worth of violent and explosive battles with powerful and advanced trainers.

Breakfast was fine. I mean, my mom's not the greatest cook in the world… but after awhile, you get tired of soggy, microwave waffles. My sister quietly whispered to me that she was going out to buy a greasy McDonalds lunch later to wash our (gross) breakfast with. We didn't tell Mom. She hated it when we reminded her of her terrible cooking.

"So, you picked your starter yet?" The two biologically-related females asked me.

"What?"

They looked at me with confused glances. My sister said, "You know… your starter for your… _journey_. You know, to become a quote, unquote, _trainer_." She said the two words as if they were the most disgusting things in the world.

To be truthful, I was with–

"Did you seriously forget that you start your journey... today?" My mom asked.

Now it was my turn to be confused.

"What?" I said stupidly. "Wait… oh, _oh_. That explains the birthday card from Dad." I remembered the goodbye/celebration card on my nightstand when I woke up. I guess I didn't give it much though… I was too distracted by the music playing.

Can you blame me? I _love Pocketful of Sunshine_.

While I hummed the tune in between sips of apple juice, my sister and mother asked me, again, what starter I was going to pick.

"… I don't know." I hadn't really given it much thought. I honestly didn't–

"Well, you know it's important." My mom said, and my sister, seemingly tired of the topic, relinquished herself to the horrors of my mother's cooking. "You should pick a Bulbasaur, like me."

"… Sure." I said nonchalantly. And then, as if on cue, a Venasaur Vine Whipped me from behind, tangling me in its grassy reins, and pulled me from my chair. I was left dangling, flailing, and screaming telling the huge dinoplant to put me down. Everyone chuckled good-heartedly. I swear, even the Venasaur had laughed… a human laugh.

Gosh, I hate–

"Annabelle, don't say such words! It's unladylike." My mom shook her head in disappointed disapproval. I had probably sworn… even if I was only ten, today.

However, her… regret in her tone almost sent me to tears.

**Later at the Laboratory…**

A half-hour later I found myself in front of the Lab waving goodbye to my mom. Surprisingly, my sister stood around a little while longer, seemingly watching my mom leave… almost too intently. It was weird, though, she hated hanging around Oak's Lab, mainly because she found his profession rather repulsive.

Once my mom had disappeared from view, my sister took me by the arm.

"Ow… what?" I gave her a blank stare.

Her stare seemed rather urgent. Immediately, I knew what she was going to talk about. "I know you. I know that you want to impress Mom and Dad. I know that's what's most important to you. I wanted to, too, when I was your age. I realized, though, that I tried to do it the wrong way. If you want to impress your parents, do it in the way to make them _and yourself _happy."

I felt fierce grief overflow from me. "Making them proud of me does make me happy. If I can just get them to say good job…," I nearly started crying right there.

She gave me a reassuring hug. "I know… just remember, though. Are you happy with this? I wasn't… and I left. Now, look at me today. I'm–"

"A hippie? Yeah, that's just what I want to be." I joked.

She punched me, and with a smile, left me.

At that moment, I didn't know what to do. What _was_ I gonna do? I entered the Lab.

**In the Lab…**

"So what starter do you wish to have?" Oak looked at me with a too-cheerful smile.

"I-I want–"

_No, I don't want. I don't believe in… but, Mom and Dad will be disappointed. They've always been disappointed in their youngest daughter. The one with no special talent, no beautiful looks, no individuality. I'm just the regretful birth. The child that's just there… I can't say to them my wants… my thoughts. They'll just be disappointed in my non-worthwhile ideas. Besides, it will look like I'm copying Natalie. Or maybe I'll just look like I'm seeking attention. I need to give this one, significant thought form. Give it form. GIVE ME WORDS! GIVE ME COURAGE! GIVE ME_–

"…a… Bulba…," I stopped. "You know what… I don't want to be a trainer, anymore. Training is… immoral. We're telling Pokémon to fight against each other, against their own will. We take them from their homes, families, and steal their freedom. We're no better than slave traders. I simply won't do it… no matter what anyone will say… not even my… disappointed parents." I could already see them shaking their heads.

Oak looked at me shocked. I didn't give him time to say anything or tell me how training is justified, because, _it's not._ I walked out of the Lab, ready for disappointment, ready for disapproval… ready for anything to happy.

I was ready because for the first time, I didn't feel worthless, or selfish, or regretful.

I felt brave and courageous.

_Give it form… _and I did.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Yeah, seriously. I would probably try to ban training if Pokémon was real. xD But, it's not, so I play the games, guilt-free!

R & R !


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